Pet Rock
by castrovalva9
Summary: The Black Guardian sets Turlough a seemingly impossible task. FiveTurlough Chapter Three and a brief Chapter Four are both new. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Pet Rock  
**Author**: castrovalva9  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters**: Five/Turlough, Black Guardian, Tegan  
**Summary**: The Black Guardian sets Turlough a seemingly impossible task.  
**Notes**: Not quite crack!fic, but not terribly far off of it, either. I did try to keep the plot grounded in its own form of logic, though.  
Set after _Terminus_, so the Black Guardian's still around and Nyssa has recently left. There just isn't a place for her in this particular story.  
Beta read by Kara MT.

* * *

As days went, Turlough's had already been nothing short of disastrous, and it was barely half over. Tegan had stomped on his foot while wearing high heels (she claimed it was an accident, but Turlough had his doubts), the Doctor had forgotten his existence and nearly stranded him on the frozen fields of Alton Major, and to top it off, the Black Guardian had just materialised to demand a chat.

Leaning against a roundel in one of the endless corridors aboard the TARDIS, Turlough balanced the despised crystal in one hand, slipped off his right shoe, and rubbed his sore foot as the Guardian launched into a typical tirade. He still wasn't happy Tegan had injured him, but had to admit that tending the wound provided a convenient excuse to avoid looking the Guardian in the eye. Unfortunately, listening to his haranguing voice was not optional.

"You, my boy, are pathetic. I've made a very easy request and you have completely failed to fulfill it. Clearly, you are useless at committing simple acts such as murder and sabotage. I cannot find the words to express how disappointed I am." There was a significant pause during which Turlough braced himself for more abuse. The Guardian continued in a disturbingly gentler tone, "However, I have been considering the matter in some depth and I'm pleased to announce that I've come up with a way for you to redeem yourself."

Such a generous offer instantly raised Turlough's suspicions. "What do you have in mind?" he asked carefully. He had no illusions; the new task was bound to be dreadful, probably worse than his original revolting assignment to kill the Doctor.

"Even you can accomplish this job," the Guardian assured him. "As a bonus, it will be a great boost to your low self-esteem when you succeed. All you must do is convince the Doctor to pilot the TARDIS to a specific location."

Turlough waited to hear the inevitable catch as he finished massaging his foot and replaced his shoe. "And then what?" he finally prompted when the Guardian had remained silent for some seconds.

"And then nothing. That is where your participation in the plan begins and ends."

Turlough rolled his eyes, but only because he knew the Guardian was too busy posturing to notice. "Well, why didn't you just ask me to do that the very first time we met?"

"Because initially, I never imagined that you would be so inept at an elementary job like a quick murder. Due to your sheer incompetence, I've had to simplify matters substantially. Now, listen carefully and commit this information to memory, if you can manage even that much." Here the Guardian rattled off a set of coordinates.

Turlough obediently memorised the words, then thought of an obvious question. "But can't I just program the coordinates myself? I don't need the Doctor for that."

"On the contrary, you very much need him. Only someone with extremely advanced knowledge of and connection to a TARDIS will be able to pilot it to that exact place. It also requires a level of intelligence that you have so far shown no sign of possessing. The Doctor must do it himself. And you must convince him, or suffer the consequences," the Guardian firmly concluded.

"So how am I supposed to persuade him?"

"Do whatever is necessary. Be creative." The Guardian's lips curved. "While you may be good for little else, in this case I'm quite sure you have your wiles... er, ways. And I am equally sure that the Doctor will find those ways most enticing."

A chill spread through Turlough's stomach. "Oh, hold on, you don't expect me to..."

"Seduce him into it? It _would_ be the most efficient method. And when one is operating under a deadline, one should strive for maximum efficiency. If one desires long-term survival, that is. Don't bother to protest that you are unwilling. We both know the opposite is true."

Turlough lowered his gaze. "Maybe so, but he'll wonder why I want to go to that place, and it'll look suspicious when I can't explain."

"Of course you can explain. Lie, boy, lie! Tell him you buried a fortune in gold there. Tell him it's your mother's rest home. I don't care what story you make up as long as you deliver him to that location. I will take care of the rest."

Turlough nodded. "That sounds..." His voice trailed off. The plan didn't sound "good" in the least; it sounded awful, but he didn't dare speak his mind. Instead he rephrased, "I understand what I have to do, and I won't let you down."

"You had better not." The Guardian regarded Turlough with a frown. "You see, I am going to allow you free rein to complete this job. This time, I won't be around to assist."

Turlough nearly dropped the crystal in shock. "What?"

"I do have other ongoing projects, you know. I'm a busy man, and it's impossible for me to constantly monitor you. Besides, your need for extensive supervision has become quite tedious. Has the thought never crossed your mind that I might like to participate in the occasional poker tournament or even read a good book once in a while? I see by the expression on your face that it has not. Ah, well, I am not surprised. Your lack of imagination is one of your outstanding characteristics." The Guardian's image wavered and began to fade. Just before he vanished, he uttered the reminder, "You are entirely on your own to complete this job. Succeed, and you are free. Fail, and the consequences will be severe. Two days should prove sufficient."

"Wait! What if I need more time?" Turlough yelled. Silence answered him. "Well, that was a big help," he muttered as he clutched the dormant crystal.

A hand fell upon his shoulder. Turlough froze; the hand was attached to the Doctor, who had turned up at almost the worst possible moment. He circled Turlough and looked inquisitively at the object in his palm. "What an unexpected sight. Turlough, I must say, I'm extremely surprised."

"It really isn't what you think," Turlough blindly insisted, curling his fingers over the top of the crystal.

The Doctor smiled kindly. "I know exactly what you're holding, and there's no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed. Absolutely no reason at all. You could be up to a lot worse."

What could be that much worse than colluding with the Black Guardian against the Doctor? Turlough thought. "What do you mean?"

"It isn't a bad thing by any means, and I don't think any less of you for it. I simply had no idea that you possessed a pet rock."

"A pet rock?" Turlough repeated. It was one of the last things he had expected to hear.

"You don't know their history?" The Doctor slipped into familiar lecture mode. "In 1970s America, a man named Gary Dahl came up with the idea of selling ordinary grey pebbles along with mock training booklets containing instructions on how to feed the rocks and teach them to perform tricks such as sitting and staying. Some owners even talked to their 'pets', like you do."

Turlough stared at him; the Doctor didn't _appear_ to be joking. "That's the most asinine idea I've ever heard of."

"Perhaps not so foolish, since it did make the inventor a millionaire within mere months," the Doctor pointed out. "And, Turlough, I understand that the original concept may be unfamiliar to you, as the fad peaked in 1975. However, you do realise if that is not a pet rock, then I'll have to ask you some very uncomfortable questions about what it actually is."

Turlough sighed in defeat. "Fine, I guess it's a pet rock."

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly as I thought. It's a very quaint and human habit you've picked up here. You see, not everything you learned on Earth was bad for you." After a final cheery smile and a pat on Turlough's back, he proceeded down the corridor and out of sight.

Turlough eyed the crystal. "Be careful, or he might get suspicious of you and me."

"Turlough, are you talking to a crystal?" came Tegan's voice from beside him.

Somehow not terribly surprised to be caught in the act again, Turlough squared his shoulders. "Yes, I am talking to a crystal, Tegan. But you see, this isn't just any ordinary crystal. It's a very special crystal. This is my pet rock."

"Your _what_?"

"Ask the Doctor." Turlough turned and meandered away, leaving Tegan speechless for once. Doubtless, she would soon recover and charge away to confront the Doctor with Turlough's crackpot story. He only wished he could see the look on her face when she suffered the humiliation of the Doctor informing her that it was true.

In the meantime, though, Turlough had more weighty matters to consider. He'd already failed to kill the Doctor by his own hand, and sabotaging the TARDIS had reaped less than positive results. He supposed he was very lucky to have been offered this latest opportunity, even though it came along with yet another moral dilemma. Turlough was sure that after he gave the Black Guardian what he wanted, the Doctor would not live a very long or a very happy life. The knowledge that he would be sending another man to sure doom did not especially thrill him.

Still, the Doctor's future was none of Turlough's concern. He had to look out for himself first and foremost. If it boiled down to a choice between his life or the Doctor's, self-preservation had to prove victorious. He would follow the Black Guardian's orders, win the Doctor's confidence, and betray him. Then he would be free. As for the Doctor, he would just have to take his chances.

* * *

Within that very hour, Turlough started his work in earnest and continued it over the next two days. During meals he brushed the Doctor's hand while passing requested items. He tried smiling seductively, innocently, boldly, and sweetly (that version was a real stretch and he wasn't entirely sure he pulled it off). He complimented the Doctor's apple pie, requested the name of his tailor, and even engaged in long, detailed discussions of cricket--knowledge courtesy of a handy but excruciatingly dull guide called _The Noble Sport Through the Centuries_-- during which he impressed the Doctor by dropping terms such as leg spinner and flat throw.

Despite Turlough's outrageous flirting, over the course of those two days he made not the slightest bit of meaningful progress. The Doctor's behaviour towards him did not alter one iota. He remained pleasant, polite, and friendly, but no more.

Truth be told, Turlough was rather insulted. He didn't think he was _that_ unattractive, and it wasn't like there were a lot of options while aboard the TARDIS. If someone--anyone at all--offered, Turlough thought the Doctor should be accepting with a hell of a lot more eagerness than he had shown so far. So why was he ignoring Turlough's blatant advances? The Doctor couldn't be blind or naive as he was acting; he had to know exactly what Turlough was getting at. Didn't he?

Searching for any other reason to explain why he was being spurned, Turlough decided it was, naturally, all Tegan's fault. Having her hampering presence around was like being a Derby entrant with an extra six stone on its back: a crippling handicap. Turlough shuddered to think of the complications of seduction if he still had Nyssa about to contend with as well. Yes, as soon as Tegan gave him some breathing space and stopped lurking about and interrupting meaningful moments, Turlough thought he should be able to make serious inroads. Therefore, on the second day of his assignment he bided his time until finally, Tegan left the console room to turn in for the night.

The setup was ideal: He and the Doctor were alone, with Tegan nowhere to be seen. The Doctor was engaged in the familiar pastime of unsuccessfully fiddling with the TARDIS console. Turlough was assisting in small ways such as holding tools and making sympathetic noises whenever the Doctor swore. He had been considering, rehearsing, and rejecting potential conversational openers for hours. Now the depressing weight of the omnipresent crystal in his pocket spurred Turlough into speech. "So, Doctor, you must have been travelling around for quite a long while," he began.

"It's been some time, yes," the Doctor agreed, handing Turlough a spanner to hold and turning back to the console.

"I'm sure you must feel very lonely out here sometimes."

"Oh, I'm hardly alone," the Doctor replied as he soldered a wire and then glanced at Turlough. "I usually have friends with me."

"No, I meant 'lonely', not 'alone'. Lonely in a personal sort of way." Turlough smiled and stroked his tie with his right index finger.

"What are you going on about, Turlough?" the Doctor said blankly.

The Doctor was giving new meaning to the word "oblivious". Trying to give him an unmistakable sign, Turlough fondled the knot of his tie. In the next moment, the TARDIS lurched violently and they crashed on the planet of Telva.

* * *

The enforced landing ruined Turlough's plan. For the remainder of the night, the Doctor was far too concerned with TARDIS repairs and negotiating with the Telvans for supplies to even notice his attempts at flirtation. In fact, considering the notable lack of success he had so far encountered, Turlough was beginning to suspect that the Black Guardian had set him an impossible task. There was no way anyone could have won over the Doctor within only 48 hours. Even given an unlimited amount of time, it might not be possible at all. The Doctor just didn't seem to understand the concept.

The crystal had, as promised, remained dim throughout the two days. Now, though, as Turlough moodily haunted the corridors and contemplated deliberately injuring himself just to get some attention, the horrible thing lit up his pocket like a spotlight. Turlough yanked it out and cupped it in his palms. Apparently they were to hold yet another key discussion in the open, probably because the Black Guardian delighted in tormenting Turlough with the constant fear of being discovered. The technique was effective. However, much to Turlough's relief, this time only the Guardian's voice confronted him, while his form stayed wherever it was when it wasn't offending Turlough's eyes.

"You have failed me once more, Turlough," the Guardian stated without preamble. "A very disheartening pattern to our interactions has formed. You are fortunate that, inept as you are, I have so far required your services. Nevertheless, your consistent failures do not inspire confidence."

"Yeah, well, it isn't all my fault. Not even close to it. I've been working night and day, so you know there's no lack of effort on my part."

"Then why is the Doctor not where I instructed you to bring him?"

"It does take two, and he hasn't exactly cooperated with me. Are you sure he even knows how to--"

"Certainly he does, boy," the Guardian snapped, "he _is _more than 750 years old."

"Well, he doesn't act like he has the first clue. What the hell is he saving it for anyway?" Turlough stopped, a potentially life-saving thought springing to the front of his brain. "Hey, maybe he just doesn't like me. If he isn't interested, you really can't blame _me_."

"Make him like you," the Guardian boomed, then paused. "Or perhaps your latest spectacular failure is indeed not entirely your fault."

Turlough could hardly believe his ears. Was the Black Guardian actually admitting that Turlough might be right?

"Perhaps," the Guardian went on, "you have competition. I understand you and the Doctor have another travelling companion, a female human. Can the girl possibly be the problem? Are she and the Doctor involved with each other?"

Turlough scoffed. "No, he's definitely not getting it from Tegan. Together they'd be like oil and water. In fact, I can't even figure out why she's still on board. She's always complaining about everything." He mimicked Tegan's voice. "'We crashed again, you couldn't steer a bicycle, Turlough's evil, the TARDIS burnt my toast.'"

"Why has she stayed around, indeed?" the Guardian mused. "It truly is a question to ponder."

Not for Turlough; he had more important things to consider than Tegan's baffling presence. Things like getting out of this mess alive and in one piece. Desperate to secure a reprieve, he heard himself uttering the words he had never thought he would voluntarily say. "Can't I just kill him instead? That would be so much easier."

"No. Use the girl," came the Black Guardian's faint voice.

"What?" Use Tegan how? Turlough wondered. Flirt with her to make the Doctor jealous? Strangle her so she would finally be out of his way? Something else? "A little direction would be nice!"

"Use the girl," the Guardian repeated, and on that note he left Turlough to think.

* * *

Despite the Black Guardian's parting words of advice, by the next day Turlough had decided against "using" Tegan in any way. The thought of flirting with her made him sick to his stomach, she clearly felt the same level of distaste towards him, and the Doctor probably wouldn't notice anyway, let alone end up overcome with jealousy. Similarly, the idea of strangling Tegan--though tempting--was bound to backfire, since the Doctor was unlikely to be impressed by such violence. And if Turlough knew one thing for sure, it was that he didn't dare enlist Tegan to help in his schemes to entrap the Doctor. She didn't trust or like him and probably would enjoy nothing better than sabotaging his attempts. Not that she would need to bother. Turlough was crashing and burning quite well on his own, without any outside assistance.

No, Turlough concluded, the best way to deal with Tegan was to leave her well alone. For the time being, he was perfectly content to stay out of her path as long as she followed his lead. While it would be virtually impossible to entirely avoid her, he could do his best. Therefore, as he entered the console room he merely nodded briefly to Tegan in the bare minimum of a greeting and then pretended she didn't exist.

That matter taken care of, Turlough devoted his brainpower to the big question. He had to come up with a fresh approach. He studied the Doctor, who was half-buried in the console innards as he wielded a screwdriver to seemingly little effect. Now and then a spark flitted at him as the TARDIS protested his efforts.

Turlough had just taken a step towards him when a distraction struck. "Turlough, we need to talk." It was Tegan, hovering at his elbow like a particularly persistent gnat.

"Later, okay?"

"No, now." She grabbed his arm and tugged him out of the room.

Once in the corridor, well out of earshot of the Doctor, Turlough yanked his limb free. "What _is_ it?"

Tegan announced, "I know what you're up to."

"Oh, really," Turlough said dismissively. "And what would that be?"

"I've seen how you're acting around the Doctor. The way you've been fawning all over him is disgusting. If you drooled any more, there'd be a puddle of saliva around your feet. Anyone with eyes can tell you have something up your sleeve. My guess is you want to win the Doctor's confidence and then betray him. The only reason he hasn't seen through you yet is that he's so idealistic, he always hunts for the good in everyone. And compared to some of the creatures he's believed in the past, you _look _relatively innocent. But I know you can't be trusted."

Despite himself, Turlough was intrigued by the (extremely accurate) accusations. Tegan was far more insightful than he ever would have guessed. Maybe if he prodded her a bit, she would unwittingly give his efforts a hand. "How do you think I'm going to 'win his confidence', as you put it?"

"You know what they say about public schools."

Turlough smirked. "No, what's that?"

Tegan scowled. "Don't try to play innocent with me. You know very well what I mean. But you're deluding yourself. The Doctor would never respond to you anyway. Why would he? He can do a lot better."

'_He can do a lot better... do a lot better... do a lot better...'_

The phrase echoed inside Turlough's head. It was significant. He just had to figure out _how _it was significant. Unless, perhaps... could it possibly be...?

"Are you even _listening_ to me?" Tegan yelped.

Turlough flinched. "How can I avoid it?" Inside, however, he was grinning in triumph. He had found it: the key, the way to effectively use Tegan as a tool and accomplish his goals. She was playing right into his hands. "Yes, of course I'm listening to you, Tegan. Your voice just reached a level at which hearing damage can occur. You said you think the Doctor can do better than me. Personally, I'm not so sure about that. He seems pretty lonely. Probably wouldn't mind a little attention, even if it _is_ just from me. After all, his options are awfully limited."

"Options?" Tegan repeated.

"No one, himself, me... oh, yeah, you're here too," Turlough said carelessly. "But you don't really count."

"Why not?" Tegan predictably flared.

Turlough shrugged. "You just... don't."

Tegan's eyes narrowed. "Leave the Doctor alone."

"Or what?"

"Or you'll see," Tegan coolly replied.

Turlough promptly decided that he very much wanted to see exactly what Tegan had in mind. If he'd guessed correctly, he'd roused Tegan's competitive instincts and lured her into the game. Soon, if all went according to plan, he could sit back and allow her to do the dirty work for him.

"While you're deciding what to do, I'll just go back in here." He shifted towards the console room.

Tegan did not speak. Instead, she appeared to be thinking very hard. Then she turned on her heel and hurried off.

Turlough gazed after her appraisingly. He didn't for a second believe that Tegan was running away. She wouldn't quit so easily. It just wasn't in her character. She was loyal to a fault, and more important in this case, she despised Turlough. Therefore, he knew she would return, and he also knew it would not be a quiet return.

Turlough spared a moment of sympathy for the poor Doctor, who would never know what had hit him once Tegan attacked. Unlike Turlough, she had no hidden agenda and absolutely nothing to lose. Also unlike Turlough, Tegan didn't know the meaning of the word "subtle". Back in the console room, he settled down with a TARDIS handbook and awaited her reappearance.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Turlough spared a moment of sympathy for the poor Doctor, who would never know what had hit him once Tegan attacked. Unlike Turlough, she had no hidden agenda and absolutely nothing to lose. Also unlike Turlough, Tegan didn't know the meaning of the word "subtle". Back in the console room, he settled down with a TARDIS handbook and awaited her reappearance._

Thirty-two pages later, Turlough sensed a presence in the doorway and looked up. Tegan had indeed returned with a vengeance. As she posed in front of them, Turlough took in her extra-short skirt, low-cut blouse, spiky heels to match her hairstyle, and scarlet lipstick. The Doctor didn't spare her a second glance. Tegan's face fell at the lack of acknowledgement, but nevertheless she sauntered into the room and proceeded to monopolise the Doctor's attention. Now she, rather than Turlough, was the one who chatted flirtatiously, and juggled tools whose names she didn't know, and violated personal space.

Turlough retreated to the outskirts of the room, assumed a sullen expression, and cast Tegan the occasional glare, just to keep her on her toes. After what seemed a suitable amount of time, he wandered away from the console room, doing his best to look simultaneously dejected yet scheming. Tegan, confused by his absence, was likely to redouble her efforts. Again, Turlough experienced a stab of pity for the Doctor. Just the merest stab, of course, but it was present.

A break in the routine came that afternoon when the three of them set off on a walk around Telva. For a change, they had happened upon a peaceful planet, and they joined other tourists in examining the marketplaces and displays. The minutes and hours ticked by. Turlough caught a glimpse of Tegan grasping the Doctor's hand and him trying, unobtrusively and unsuccessfully, to retrieve it.

It was late when they finished their explorations. Turlough had a strong feeling that the next day would see a significant shift in the dynamics of life aboard the TARDIS. He slept on it, and his dreams consisted of mocking Black Guardians, entrapped Doctors, and angry Tegans. He woke up feeling remarkably unrefreshed and positive that if something didn't break soon, he might go insane... provided he survived long enough to do so.

In an especially morbid moment, he wondered precisely how the Black Guardian would choose to kill him. Decapitation seemed a distinct possibility, drowning was also in the running, and strangulation wasn't out of the question. All in all, though, Turlough thought the Black Guardian probably was an evisceration fan.

As he finished dwelling on this unpleasant thought, Turlough realised that he was first into the console room this morning. He spared only a moment to wonder where the others were before he glanced at the console. Perhaps he could use the rare period of privacy to program the Black Guardian's desired coordinates. If he succeeded, he wouldn't need to involve the Doctor at all and could save a tremendous amount of time and trouble. He snaked a hand toward the controls, then hesitated. He hadn't yet learned enough about operating a craft as complex as the TARDIS; he wasn't even sure where to start.

While he wavered, footsteps rapidly tapped their way towards him. Turlough managed to be standing an innocent distance from the console when the Doctor slipped into the room and cast a furtive glance over his shoulder before slumping back against the wall. He wore the look of a hunted man.

"What's wrong?" enquired Turlough, though he already had a pretty good idea.

The Doctor peered down the corridor again before he answered. "I'm growing a bit concerned about Tegan. She's been behaving rather oddly."

Turlough shrugged. To him, much of Tegan's behaviour was odd. "In what way?"

"Well, she offered to help me practise my cricket swing. At least, I _think_ she meant my cricket swing, because she was talking about balls and bats at the time. And--" here the Doctor lowered his voice, as if imparting a secret, "she just tried to massage my shoulders, without an invitation. Not that I would have extended one in the first place, but she just _presumed_ quite boldly."

Admittedly, such conduct seemed bizarre even for Tegan. "Have you noticed any other strange behaviour?" Turlough pressed.

"Yes, Tegan was wandering the corridors near my room while wearing only a towel. A very short towel. A very short towel that slipped three times during our 60-second conversation." The Doctor reflexively covered his eyes at the memory.

Turlough hid a smirk. "Okay, mystery solved. I can tell you exactly why Tegan's acting like that."

"Really?" The Doctor raised his head. "All right, why?"

Turlough almost hated to extinguish the spark of hope glistening in the Doctor's eyes, but it had to be done. "I finally figured out why Tegan's still on board: She likes you."

"I like her, too," the Doctor readily agreed. "Most of the time, at any rate. Particularly when she isn't shouting at me. But I don't know what that has to do with her actions of today."

Turlough realised he was just going to have to spell it out. Subtlety was wasted on the Doctor. "Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once: the reason Tegan's making double entendres, and trying to get her hands on you, and dropping her towel? She wants into your pants."

The Doctor winced. "Turlough, could you please at least try not to be quite so crude?"

"It's obviously what's going on. You could ask anyone and they'd tell you. I mean, the truth is the truth. Didn't that possibility ever occur to you?"

"No. It did not."

"You'd better get more open-minded in a hurry," Turlough warned. "Because Tegan wants you, and the sooner you accept that fact, the sooner you can fight back."

"Tegan doesn't have those sorts of feelings towards me," the Doctor insisted. "She doesn't even respect me. When the TARDIS crashed this most recent time, she called me a directionless Time Lord with even less purpose than all the other ones. She said she was surprised I could tell up from down, and sometimes she isn't convinced of even that much."

Turlough was forced to admit to himself that the Doctor's argument held great credence. Little said "I love you" less than Tegan's unique use of insults. Nevertheless, he had to convince the Doctor that Tegan harboured serious--and romantic--feelings towards him, or his plan would never succeed.

"Tegan does like you. A lot. Hell, I bet she's in love with you. Think about it: She complains about the accidents and the malfunctions and the mistakes and the murderous aliens and the--come to think of it, she does bring up some awfully valid issues. But getting back to my main point, Tegan complains about a lot of things but she doesn't leave. That's the key."

"You're wrong, Turlough. She did return home once."

"But she came back to travel with you again," Turlough countered. "And I'm sure it wasn't because she wanted to risk her life at the claws of Tarr beasts and the like. She came back because of _you_. Specifically, because of her deep feelings for you." Some of Turlough's words might even have been true. He didn't really care if they were, though. The important thing was that the Doctor believed they might be.

It seemed he had serious doubts, as he was already shaking his head. "You must be mistaken. I would know if Tegan felt that way, and I'm positive she doesn't. Whatever the reason for her unusual behaviour, if I pretend not to notice I'm sure she'll give up eventually."

"This _is_ Tegan you're talking about, right?" Turlough had rarely met a more determined individual and doubted the Doctor had either. "All right, if you need proof of her intentions, I'll do my best to get it for you. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try to help. First we need to find Tegan. Do you have any idea where she is now?"

Ignoring the Doctor's feeble protests, Turlough spearheaded a hunt for Tegan. The Doctor in tow, he explored vast chunks of the TARDIS without any luck. Finally they approached the library, where he hesitated. It hardly seemed a likely spot, but the door stood ajar.

The Doctor peeked inside, then withdrew his head and smiled. "Here Tegan is, and she's fine. She simply fell asleep while reading a book. It's all perfectly innocent and rather sweet, in my opinion."

Tegan, reading instead of exerting her best to beat him? That seemed very out of character to Turlough. He had expected to find her ensconced in her room, experimenting with various shades of lipstick to achieve her best seductive look. He slunk to the library door to see for himself.

On the surface, the Doctor's assessment of the situation appeared to be accurate. Library, Tegan, book. But something about the scene struck Turlough as being a bit off. Perhaps it was the way Tegan's lips curled in her rest, or the satisfied sprawl of her body upon the armchair. Whatever the reason, Turlough felt the need to have a closer look. The Doctor at his heels, he crept inside the room, inching closer and closer until he was directly in front of Tegan.

His instincts proved correct. Indeed, the scenario was better than he could have hoped for. Tegan was cradling a musty-looking book with "Aphrodisiacs For Aliens" emblazoned along the spine. Turlough circled the chair to peek over her shoulder and restrained a laugh only with considerable difficulty; the section about Gallifreyans stared up at him. Beside him, the Doctor tensed and Turlough knew he had also read the disturbing words.

They turned and tiptoed away. It was in neither of their best interests to disturb Tegan at the moment. Outside the library, Turlough glanced at the Doctor and noticed that he had turned nearly as pale as the wall behind him.

They had paced nearly all the way back to the console room, the Doctor veritably exuding anxiety, before either of them spoke again. It was the Doctor. He said, "I should have a little talk with Tegan. I'm sure it will clear up this minor misunderstanding. Best to nip these issues in the bud."

Confident that anything the Doctor said to Tegan would completely fail to solve his problem, Turlough merely nodded. Let the Doctor cling to his uplifting fantasy for a little while. He'd plummet back to reality soon enough and be increasingly vulnerable to Turlough's persuasions for the experience. Sometimes you just had to give them enough rope to hang themselves before they'd allow you to help.

The Doctor backtracked towards the library and Turlough continued to the console room, where he amused himself by doodling little figures of the Doctor and Tegan in various entertaining positions: Tegan chasing the Doctor, the Doctor fleeing, Tegan falling into a bottomless pit, the Doctor literally backed into a corner as Tegan relentlessly advanced upon him. The distraction proved so absorbing that he was taken by surprise when Tegan marched in, fairly dragging the Doctor behind her. She wore the broadest smirk Turlough had ever seen outside of his own reflection in a mirror.

The Doctor soon excused himself from the room, and Turlough was not surprised to find that Tegan couldn't resist flaunting her victory, albeit in subdued tones. "You might as well give up now. I've won."

The air of triumph was unmistakable. Tegan undoubtedly believed she was saving the Doctor from Turlough's evil clutches. In her own modest, primitive, human way, she actually meant well.

Impressed but not willing to give an inch, Turlough shook his head. "You know, Tegan, you are pretty sick. You're what is called a dog in the manger. You're not going after the Doctor because you want him--you're doing it because _I_ want him and you just don't want me to win. Yet you think I'm such a horrible person. Well, from where I sit, you're a lot worse than I am."

"Who says I don't genuinely want the Doctor for myself? And how would you know what I'm thinking anyway?"

"You didn't have any interest in him at all until _after_ you knew I wanted him. Your motive seems obvious to me, or anyone else with any sense."

"You're being awfully generous to even imply that you have sense, Turlough."

Their conversation, conducted in low, fierce mutters, drew the attention of the Doctor as he returned. "You two aren't arguing again, are you? I do wish you would try to get on with each other."

"It was just a little disagreement," Turlough assured him. "All over now, not worth thinking about."

Tegan didn't even bother to make up a lie. She just pointedly turned her back on Turlough and lavished attention on the Doctor. She spoke of outings for two to parks and French restaurants, of European holidays and sunset strolls on Mediterranean beaches. The Doctor took up the habit of nervous pacing, hands stuffed deep inside his pockets as he stalked round and round the console. He nearly collided with Turlough several times, and stopped apologising after the first two. This lapse in manners, Turlough took as a positive sign. The Doctor was so unnerved that he had ceased to be polite. It wouldn't be long now before he was begging for Turlough's assistance.

Tegan's speeches quickly grew tiresome. Turlough found himself less than interested in hearing any more about the wonders of the Australian outback, but knew that Tegan would not quit the field a second before he did. Therefore, citing exhaustion and the need for sleep, Turlough made a strategic withdrawal and hid in his room for a full hour before reemerging. His timing was impeccable. As expected, Tegan had retreated--presumably to her own room, though Turlough wouldn't put it past her to lie in wait in the Doctor's--while the Doctor remained in the console room, an easy target.

His head was bowed and he didn't see Turlough at first. At the sight of that lowered head, Turlough felt a surge of pity that he ruthlessly tamped down. It was wasted emotion that would move him no closer to his goal. He steeled himself and stepped forward.

The Doctor's body tensed; his head snapped up; he was coiled like a spring until he set eyes on the person who had entered the room. Then he sagged against the console, tension visibly draining out of him. "Oh, Turlough, it's only you. But I thought you were off to bed."

"Got lonely and wanted some company." Turlough paused, allowing the Doctor ample time to offer to _be_ that company--he had to at least try, after all. When no reply was forthcoming, he proceeded with Plan B, glanced around the room, and then stated the obvious. "So, I see Tegan is gone."

"Yes. Yes, she is." The Doctor's tone practically dripped with relief.

"Good thing she has to sleep sometimes, huh?" Turlough pulled up a chair and settled down for what promised to be a most illuminating discussion. "So, what the hell happened between you and her today after you went back to the library?"

"We had a chat."

"That must be the chat where you said you'd straighten things out with her. Where you were supposed to inform her that you're not interested, it's never going to happen, and she's mental if she thinks it ever might. That sort of thing. So why was she talking Venetian gondola rides for two all afternoon?"

"Yes, well, the discussion did not exactly go according to plan."

"In what way?" Turlough prodded.

"It seems Tegan thinks I'm in love with her," the Doctor said in a subdued voice.

"What?!" Turlough almost couldn't believe his luck; the Doctor had screwed up beyond his wildest dreams. "How did she get that idea?"

The Doctor studied the floor, refusing to meet Turlough's probing gaze. "I suppose I might somehow have accidentally given her that impression with a most unfortunate choice of phrasing that was unhappily misunderstood."

"In other words, you totally fucked up." Turlough shook his head in wonder. "You should have brought a translator when you talked to her. What exactly did you say that got misinterpreted so badly?"

"I informed Tegan that while some friendships deepen into more over time, others are meant to remain strictly friendly. Surely she should have grasped my point, but she took the wrong meaning from those very clear words."

"So why didn't you correct her? Immediately and firmly?"

"Tegan can be very bullheaded when she wants to be. She simply wouldn't listen."

"Don't worry, we'll fix things. Obviously you were way too nice and let her walk all over you. You need to be firm, direct, and in command. Since you can't manage that much, it's up to me." Turlough jumped up and turned towards the corridor. "I don't care if she's sleeping right now. Someone has to save you. I'll go talk to her."

The Doctor stepped into his path, stopping Turlough short. "No, don't. I don't want Tegan's feelings to be hurt. Beneath her tough veneer lies a vulnerable soul."

"I'll take your word for it." Turlough dropped back into his chair and continued, "Either way, you still have a big problem on your hands and it isn't going away on its own."

"Yes," the Doctor admitted. "I am somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed with the situation."

"I take it you don't want to go to Paris with Tegan, at least not in the manner she intended."

"No, of course not. I've already holidayed there. Besides, Tegan is only a friend. But, Turlough," and here the Doctor turned his gaze on him, "one aspect of this matter in particular has me at a loss."

"Just one? All right, what is it?"

"Why now? Why did Tegan choose this time to begin making advances?"

For just a moment, Turlough wondered if the Doctor suspected his involvement in this turn of events. In that case, there was only one thing to do: He assumed a bland expression and flatly lied. "I have no idea why Tegan picked this time to attack. She _is_ an alien, you know, and their behaviour can be quite hard to predict."

"But you lived on Earth for some time," the Doctor countered. "That experience must give you a certain amount of insight into the motivations of its inhabitants."

Turlough shook his head. "Tegan remains a virtual mystery to me, and I think that's okay with both of us. We just don't have much in common. I'd expect you to understand her better than I do. You've known her a lot longer than I have."

"That's just it." The Doctor began to pace again. "I can't come up with any reasonable explanation."

"Maybe you should ask Tegan about her timing," Turlough slyly suggested.

The Doctor halted, looking frankly horrified. "Absolutely not! She might take such an enquiry as a personal interest in her, as some sort of encouragement!"

Turlough shrugged. "Forget I had the idea, then. But you know, all this stuff started pretty much right after Nyssa left. Maybe Tegan was just lying around and started thinking about things and realised that life is too short not to go after you want--that if you don't grab something while it's around, it might not be there later."

"_Carpe diem_ is an admirable sentiment," the Doctor agreed. "Though I'd appreciate it more if Tegan had decided to seize something other than me."

"Well," Turlough hinted, "if you want to discourage her, there are various methods. You don't have to suffer in silence, unless you're a complete masochist." Recognising that the Doctor did possess marked masochistic tendencies and the conversation had veered into dangerous territory, Turlough hurried on. "I could help you wiggle free."

The Doctor furrowed his brow. "I said I don't want Tegan to be hurt."

"That might be unavoidable, but if you're living a pain-free life, you're not really living. Isn't that true? Besides, if you're careful you can minimise the damage and let her down fairly gently while saving yourself. You're right that if you just tell her you don't love her and that's all there is to it, it'll hurt her feelings and she'll think there's something wrong with her. But if you _show_ her why you don't love her, and you do it in just the right way, she'll know the problem is you instead of her. Even Tegan would have to accept defeat fairly gracefully."

Hope infiltrated the Doctor's voice. "And how do I go about letting Tegan down easily?"

"You have to show her that the issue with this relationship is not just Tegan herself. It's any _woman_." Turlough delicately stressed the final word of the sentence.

Comprehension dawned on the Doctor's face, yet he didn't flee the room. Turlough was encouraged, especially when the Doctor said, "You sound like you've come up with a plan."

"Yeah, and I think it'll work perfectly. It's pretty straightforward. How it goes is, Tegan has to catch you in a compromising position with someone else. Obviously a male someone."

"What's your reasoning?"

"If she found you with a woman, she would definitely feel hurt. She'd wonder what that woman has that she doesn't. Is she prettier, smarter, nicer, that sort of thing. She'd blame herself for not being good enough and end up feeling bad no matter what. But if Tegan finds you with a man, she'll just be mad that you didn't tell her the truth. There won't be any comparisons or any reason for her to feel inferior. That's why it has to be a man instead of a woman."

"I take it you have an individual in mind."

"Well..." Turlough equivocated.

"You," the Doctor stated rather than asked.

"I don't see much choice," Turlough pointed out. "The way she feels about me, if she thought we were involved she would have serious questions about your taste and might lose interest in you for that reason alone. Besides, there isn't anyone else around to do the job, unless you want to take your chances with finding a stranger who'll help."

"I very much doubt that Tegan would be convinced if she saw me with an unfamiliar person. In fact, she would most likely become extremely suspicious and not believe any of the act. Then I would be left worse off than I am now."

"I agree. So, I guess I'm nominated."

"It wouldn't be fair to you, Turlough. I could never ask you to do such a thing."

"You're not asking; I'm offering. You've done so much for me that I welcome the opportunity to return the favour," Turlough said nobly. "Isn't that what friends do for each other?"

"Wait a minute," the Doctor cautioned. "I have my concerns about this plan. It sounds rather dishonest and underhanded."

Turlough couldn't let the Doctor chicken out now. "It's suffer that for five minutes, or Tegan, long-term. Your life, your choice."

The Doctor was silent for so long, Turlough fully anticipated a negative response. Thus, he was not terribly discouraged when he received precisely that.

"No. It isn't right and I can't do it. Thank you for your offer of assistance. I know it's well intentioned but it's fundamentally wrong and I must refuse."

Turlough nodded. It was not the time to pursue the issue, or even to point out that sometimes the Doctor was far too self-righteous for his own good. All he had to do was wait until the Doctor felt pressured enough to agree to his plan, no matter how insane and/or distasteful it seemed to him. He would bide his time. It would happen eventually; on that point, Turlough was confident.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

They passed the bulk of the ensuing day exploring Telva. Turlough, deciding to let Tegan work as she pleased, deliberately avoided her and the Doctor as much as possible. He did occasionally see the two in passing (Tegan was always glued to the Doctor's side) but exchanged no more than a handful of words with them. He returned to the TARDIS late that afternoon to find the Doctor poised in the console room.

"Turlough! Finally! I've been waiting almost an hour for you to come back. I was on the verge of going outside to hunt for you."

Turlough stared at the Doctor, who looked the very personification of desperate. His eyes were wild, his breathing tortured, his hair rumpled as if by a mighty wind--or possibly Tegan's fingers. Something truly terrible must have happened between him and Tegan, but when Turlough opened his mouth to press for details, the Doctor shook his head. "I'm not talking about it, and that's final. I am, however, asking for your help with Tegan, if you're still willing to give it."

Turlough hesitated, using that small gap of time to inject the appropriate amount of doubt and sympathy into his voice. "But you said my idea wasn't right and you didn't like it. I'd feel horrible if you did something that violated your moral code just because I suggested it."

"Sometimes the wrong thing _is_ the right thing, Turlough. Situations like the current one encourage me in that belief, and I only wish I'd realised it a little earlier. Now, do I have your help or not?"

Figuring that he had put up sufficient argument, Turlough relented. "You know I'll do whatever I can. When do you want to try--"

"Immediately," the Doctor interrupted.

"All right," Turlough agreed. "But you do know Tegan can't be around when we start. Lately, wherever you've been, she's turned up within two minutes."

The Doctor shook his head. "Not this time. Tegan got lost in the TARDIS. I may have had something to do with that."

"Good. That gives us some time to set the stage."

"Where do we do it?"

Turlough studied their surroundings. "All things considered, it's best if we stay right here. This room is probably the first place Tegan will come looking for you, and we need her to find us easily. The way we do it is, we wait until she gets close, and then we start the act."

"Yes. The sooner this is over, the better," the Doctor said. "I've allowed it to go on for too long as it is. So, the location is decided. How do we know when Tegan is close enough that we should begin in earnest?"

Turlough considered. "A warning system would be best. Can we count on the TARDIS to alert us when she's approaching?"

"Not reliably, and we'll only have one valid opportunity to attempt this ploy. These are very delicate circumstances. If Tegan even suspects an act..."

Turlough nodded. He, even more than the Doctor, needed this scheme to play out exactly according to plan. If Tegan guessed that it was a setup, the Doctor would survive. Turlough, on the other hand, would be doomed. "Since the TARDIS isn't reliable, we'll have to modify the plan a little. We need to get ready immediately and stay ready until Tegan arrives. Because that could be anytime. Maybe in five minutes, maybe in two hours."

"Yes, well." The Doctor hesitated. "Exactly how believable does this need to look?"

Turlough regarded him with disfavour. "She won't buy it for a second if you're still wearing all those clothes when she comes in. At least get rid of _some_ of them."

"Oh. Right." The Doctor set about peeling the layers of clothing from his upper half, afterwards neatly folding the items and arranging them in a pile by his side.

"Wrong. All wrong," Turlough scolded. "Do you want Tegan to think you're doing your laundry, or you're in the middle of a tryst?" He picked up the shirt and tossed it in a random direction. The jumper ended up splayed across the console, and the frockcoat, celery and all, was left hanging askew from the hatstand.

"Of course," the Doctor acknowledged, assessing the results. "Your way looks much more... convincing. Except that you're still fully dressed."

"That is true," Turlough agreed. "Why don't you help me out with that? It'll look good for Tegan if she walks in on us at the right moment," he added enticingly, noting that the Doctor's eyes were riveted to his tie. Turlough's fingers crept towards the knot, then halted. "Maybe you should take it off for me," he suggested. "It would be good practice."

The Doctor abruptly stepped back. "Suddenly I'm not so certain this is a good idea."

"What? We've come this far. You can't quit now, when we're so close to success. Trust me," Turlough urged as he continued to fiddle with his tie. For some reason, the sight of Turlough's fingers on the knot appeared to unnerve the Doctor to distraction. The mood was quickly escaping, so Turlough turned away and swiftly undressed only to the same extent as the Doctor had, sensing that going further would be a risky move.

Having disposed of his discarded clothing in the same haphazard fashion he had applied to the Doctor's things, he resumed talking. "It could be a little while. Why shouldn't we entertain ourselves while we're waiting? Come on, what harm could it do? You're going to have to be able to do a lot more than just look at me if you want to fool Tegan."

"This is a very awkward and difficult situation," the Doctor protested. "Even though we're only pretending--"

At this point, Turlough launched his long-delayed move. "Is that _all_ we're doing? Because it could be so much more, if you wanted."

"That would be extremely improper, Turlough."

"I didn't ask if it would be proper. I asked if you wanted it."

"That isn't a fair question," the Doctor countered, glancing away and then back.

"I'll take that answer as a yes. You know, you're way too good for Tegan. You're way too good for me, too, but I don't care."

"It isn't that I'm not attracted to you, Turlough. It's that I shouldn't let myself be."

"Why not?"

The Doctor rattled off a string of excuses. "This really isn't right. I'm so much older than you--I'm in the position of mentor--I'm in authority--my travelling companions look to me for guidance. That's why I always try not to get involved. It's a power imbalance."

Turlough shrugged. "I know. I don't care about any of that, either."

The Doctor dropped his protests with alacrity. A second later, Turlough found himself pinned against the wall, the outline of a roundel being impressed into his back. He would have bruises tomorrow, but this would be worth it. Then suddenly, all thoughts about the Black Guardian, obeying orders, and ensuring his own survival dissolved from Turlough's mind. It was about just him and the Doctor, locked together, alone. The sounds of harsh breathing and scrabbling fingers filled the room for long moments, until, inevitably, a much more unpleasant noise intruded.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

The rude awakening came in the form of Tegan's voice. The scene certainly must have appeared damning from her viewpoint, Turlough reflected: clothing strewn about the room, heavy breathing, hands in entirely inappropriate locations. Too bad Tegan hadn't been delayed for even another two minutes or so, but she always did have the most terrible timing. For a few moments he had actually forgotten she would be showing up. Judging from the look on the Doctor's face, the memory lapse was mutual.

"Tegan... I..." The Doctor's voice faltered and he hastily withdrew his right hand, Turlough letting it go with reluctance.

Tegan's gaze followed the movement. "So this is why you stranded me on the cricket pitch--so you could run away and fool around with _him_. I waited ages for you to come back with the bat!"

"Sorry, Tegan, but it must be obvious that he doesn't like girls in that special way," Turlough helpfully chimed in.

Attention averted, Tegan turned on him. "You tricked him into this," she accused wildly.

"I must be awfully persuasive, or he was really willing to be convinced," Turlough pointed out.

"Perhaps we should..." The Doctor gestured vaguely, then gathered up his scattered clothing, and began to dress. Turlough followed suit. There was a brief moment of confusion as Turlough untangled his blazer from the Doctor's shirt--he had no idea how the blazer had ended up at that end of the room--and Tegan hmphed impatiently and the Doctor looked away and then they all started to talk at once.

"This really isn't what it looks like," the Doctor began.

"I feel like being sick," Tegan contributed.

"It really _is_ what it looks like," Turlough offered.

Turlough and the Doctor stopped speaking. Tegan did not. In fact, her objections resumed with even more vigour than before. "Doctor, what were you thinking? Turlough can't be trusted. I thought you'd realised that by now. I mean, I've told you often enough that he's using you."

"It goes both ways," Turlough muttered.

Ignoring him, Tegan continued to address the Doctor. "I knew Turlough was trouble from the second I saw him. He'll turn on you and then you'll be sorry. He doesn't deserve to be here and he never will."

The Doctor paused in the act of smoothing his shirt and looked at her. "That's enough, Tegan. Turlough is welcome on board and I won't have you talking that way about him. Is that understood?"

Turlough was taken aback by the sternness of his tone. He hadn't known the Doctor was capable of sounding so firm and commanding.

It seemed like Tegan hadn't, either. Her mouth flapped open and shut. Then, thwarted by the Doctor, she directed her wrath at Turlough. "You tricked him. You played on his weaknesses and lured into your trap. This is really low of you, Turlough. Unbelievably low."

"If you can't speak civilly, don't speak at all," the Doctor coldly cut in. "Turlough is as welcome on board as you are."

Tegan glared. "Obviously a lot more welcome. You wouldn't even kiss me, but you had your hands all over his--" As the Doctor opened his mouth again, she changed tack. "Fine, have it your way. I won't say another word. But sooner or later you'll find out for yourself that everything I've said is true. Then you'll wish you'd done a lot of things very differently." She whirled and stalked away.

In her wake, Turlough finished dressing. Despite himself, he found that he was oddly touched. The Doctor had defended him to Tegan. It was more than he had done on his own behalf--a lot more. If Turlough hadn't come under attack, he doubted the Doctor would have spoken a word to protect himself. Abruptly feeling the need to utter a supportive statement even if he didn't really believe it, Turlough volunteered, "She'll get over it."

"I hope so. I suppose it's up to her now." The Doctor shrugged into his frockcoat and tipped his celery at a jaunty angle. "Thank you for helping me, Turlough. I'd say we accomplished our goal, so I owe you quite a favour now."

"Favour. Right." Thus rudely brought back to reality, Turlough recalled the true purpose behind his charade. He had to follow the Black Guardian's orders, or he was as good as dead. He took a deep breath and went on, "As a matter of fact, now that you mention it, there is something I'd like."

Looking intrigued, the Doctor replied, "Name it."

"I'd like to visit a certain place," Turlough elaborated.

"Oh. I had anticipated a much different request." Frowning slightly--did Turlough imagine the gleam of disappointment in his eyes?--nevertheless, the Doctor walked over to the console and poised his hands over the controls. "The TARDIS is ready, so I suppose we can leave now. Where to?"

Turlough quickly repeated the location the Black Guardian had imparted to him. Despite the Guardian's concerns, he recalled it perfectly.

Without asking so much as a single question first, the Doctor slowly began to program the coordinates. Then he spoke in a very calm voice. "Turlough, are you absolutely certain about everything you just told me? According to the main identifying factor, the area you want to visit is highly unstable. If you're off by even the slightest degree with as much as one element, the TARDIS could be destroyed."

Turlough reviewed the coordinates in his mind. He had committed the exact words to memory and was positive he had correctly recited the entire string. "I'm sure."

"Very well." The Doctor resumed his actions at the console, slowly and steadily sealing his doom. He was taking Turlough's word for it. He hadn't even asked why Turlough wanted to visit this dangerous place, had taken him on faith. And it was going to kill him. Turlough was going to kill him.

Turlough felt a surge of a rather strong, somewhat unfamiliar emotion known as guilt. It did not feel good, or right. Before he could censor himself, he blurted, "Wait!"

The Doctor halted and looked up enquiringly. "Yes, Turlough, what is it? All I have left to do is to press two more buttons and we'll be on our way."

Turlough remembered how the Doctor had welcomed him on board. He had accepted Turlough as a member of the team and had defended him to Tegan. Then he thought of the Black Guardian and his fearsome presence, his belittling and threats. The only things the Black Guardian had ever given Turlough were an evil crystal, some nightmares, and dreadful tasks to accomplish. Boiled down to those terms, it really was no contest. "I suppose there may be the smallest chance that I could be just the tiniest bit wrong. It isn't worth risking our lives, is it?"

"Under the circumstances I would say no, but the choice isn't up to me. It has to be your decision."

Turlough had been hoping to take the easy way out, but the Doctor had picked the worst time to develop a backbone and refuse to decide for him. He was already having second thoughts. It was one matter to want to do the right thing, and quite another to actually do it, especially when said action was likely to result in one's protracted and agonising death. He looked at the Doctor once more and sighed. He just couldn't do go through with the Black Guardian's plan. Obviously he'd never make a proper villain. "Forget the whole thing. It isn't worth it."

"If you're certain."

"Yeah, I am."

The Doctor nodded. "Very well. Then we'll just remain here on Telva for a bit longer, if you don't mind. I never did get to visit that diamond mine I wanted to see."

As he watched the Doctor wipe out the coordinates, Turlough experienced an odd sense of relief. Of course, now the Black Guardian would probably kill him in the most painful manner he could devise, but at least it would all be over. Finally over.

"By the way," the Doctor added, "this may seem a bit of an unusual question, but I was wondering if you've met any especially unpleasant individuals lately."

Not for the first time, Turlough questioned whether the Doctor possessed mind-reading abilities. "You could say that," he replied guardedly.

"And one of them didn't by any chance have terrible fashion sense and what looked like a duck attached to his head, did he?"

"Now that you mention it, he might have," Turlough admitted.

"Well, if you happen to encounter that particular nasty-tempered fellow ever again, you should know that he's powerless as long as you make the choice to ignore him. Essentially, he's a bully who can be faced down, with the proper resolve. Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment..." The Doctor slipped out of the room before Turlough could react.

He stood there, thinking. He was alone. If he was going to die, it might as well be here and now, with no one around to witness the scene. In Turlough's estimation, the only thing worse than being slaughtered by the Black Guardian would be to be slaughtered by the Black Guardian while Tegan or the Doctor watched.

Tentatively, Turlough pulled the crystal from his pocket. Nothing happened, yet he had more or less expected to be struck down by lightning on the spot. Maybe the Black Guardian was delaying the move to lull Turlough into a false sense of security. Or maybe, just possibly, the Doctor had been right about the Guardian now being powerless. True, he hadn't specifically mentioned the Guardian by name, but his description had been telling. If more than one individual in the universe went in for the duck look, Turlough didn't want to know about it.

He stared at the crystal; there was no reaction. "It's over," Turlough said in as firm a voice as he could muster. "I won't listen to you anymore. You have no power over me, and I don't care if you kill me. You still won't get what you really want." He hesitated for several seconds, during which the crystal lay silently. It looked as defeated as he supposed an inanimate object could appear to be. It seemed the Doctor had been right.

He wasn't giving the Black Guardian another chance to work against him. Turlough pulled the door lever on the console, strode to the opening, and hurled the crystal as far away as he could. As he watched it arc through the air, a refreshing wave of freedom swept over him. The crystal landed at a considerable distance from the TARDIS and did not move. Satisfied, Turlough turned from the doorway, only to almost collide with Tegan.

"I'm going for a walk," she announced as she dodged him. "And for the Doctor's sake, I hope there's some good in you _to_ be found." Head high, she marched outside.

With a mental shrug, Turlough moved back to the console and hit the lever to shut Tegan out. He hoped her walk was a very long one indeed and that he wasn't anywhere nearby when she came back.

He paced about the room for a few moments as an empty sensation settled over him. By all rights, he should be feeling good. No more Black Guardian. No more evil assignments. Those were positive things. So why did he feel so very at a loss? Was it because he had left Earth? Had hurt Tegan's feelings? Missed Nyssa? Was homesick for Trion?

After a bit of thought, Turlough figured out the problem. Lately the quest to do terrible, twisted things to the Doctor had consumed all his waking hours. Without that mission to guide him, he'd have to come up with a new purpose to occupy his barren social life.

As if on cue, the Doctor walked back in. Well, Turlough reflected, there were far worse distractions in the universe. He could still do terrible and twisted things to the Doctor, but now they would be of his own volition. "We're all alone now. Tegan decided to go for a walk," he offered, stepping closer.

The Doctor nodded. "I know. She told me as much when she saw me in the corridor." From the look on his face, it was not the only information Tegan had shared. "I think she may remain outside for a considerable amount of time. Understandably so, given the circumstances. It might be a good opportunity for me to tour that diamond mine."

"Or," Turlough suggested, "you could stay here with me."

"I could," the Doctor conceded. "Which reminds me, Turlough, I wanted to thank you again for your help."

"It wasn't a hardship," Turlough assured him. "More like a pleasure."

"Well, that's good to hear. Oh, and Turlough? Remember when you asked me if I ever get lonely? I do."

This time when Turlough's hand wandered towards his tie, the Doctor did not move away.


	4. Chapter 4

Tegan plodded along on the surface of Telva, fuming. She still knew, she absolutely _knew_, that Turlough was up to no good, but no one (read: the Doctor) would listen to her. When she had cornered him in the corridor only moments ago, he had brushed off her very real concerns yet again. Insanely enough, he thought she was just trying to ruin his happiness out of sheer jealousy, or some such nonsense. As if anyone could be happy with Turlough, of all people!

Tegan snorted and kicked at the ground with particular vigour, then yelped and stopped in her tracks. Whatever object her foot had connected with, it was hard and it had hurt.

She studied the area and spied a familiar-looking shape. It was the crystal Turlough had been carrying around, the one she had just seen him cast out of the TARDIS for no reason. Well, it didn't deserve the treatment it had received at his hands, and it definitely couldn't help the fact that it had once belonged to Turlough. On impulse, Tegan bent and scooped it up. It certainly was a pretty sort of thing and it glowed in a most attractive manner, as if delighted to be in her possession.

end


End file.
